A really hard day

It was supposed to be a celebratory day: kindergarten closing (not "graduation", thank goodness), then lunch at Red Robin, and an afternoon at the pool.

It's not really a surprise that end of the school year, even when uneventful and lovely, is a difficult transition for any kid, but especially for a 6 year old with Asperger's, like Sam. He has been a real bear for the past few weeks, throwing mega-fits and tossing around bad attitudes left and right.

This morning was no exception. Getting ready turned into an epic whine-fest because he didn't like his choice of dressy clothing, citing "everyone will think I'm ugly" among other cringe-inducing comments. The three of us did get on the road on time, and the entry into school was noneventful.

We had a few hours to kill, so E and I had some breakfast and then went to the park to watch squirrels. (Well, I was there to watch squirrels. E was there to comment on how obsessed I am with squirrels and dogs and birds.) This part of the day was nice, even though E was starting to feel ill from some new meds he is taking.

The kindergarten ceremony was beautiful, so much so that I spent most of it wiping away tears. The theme was "Forever Friends" and the kids sang songs and read a poem. Our boy got awards for good effort, good conduct (!!) and a cherished 3rd place running prize, for a little man not very coordinated or athletic, who is usually the slowest runner.

Lunch plans were changed a bit because E was too sick to go, but Sam and I went anyway. When the restaurant was out of crayons, he burst into tears. When he accidentally let his balloon go outside, more tears. When I got a replacement balloon, that helped, but he still sadly moaned about never seeing his "Balloony" again.

I asked Sam if he was up to a quick mall trip to pick up my new glasses. He wisely declined but accepted my offer of a trip to the library. We parked on the wrong side of the garage, which meant walking around for a bit--no big deal, except Sam was tearfully terrified about the danger of passing cars.

On the way home, he asked me a question I didn't understand, and when I attempted to clarify what he meant, he told me I "have no brain"--twice. Did I mention I had a mild headache all morning that was beginning to intensify? We walked into the house on the edge of a fit, both of us angry and frustrated. The next hour was a long ordeal, involving repeated time-out attempts, much screaming and door-slamming, accusations that it "was all Mommy's fault", and having to resort to using "baskets" (a holding technique we were taught by the behavioral psychologist for when he is too out of control to safely do time-outs, and which we rarely have to use) several times. It ended with him finally calming a bit, and with someone else well over 6 years old crying in the bedroom.

Ultimately I was able to talk him out of going to the pool, since honestly I don't think either of us could take it. We read books and I took a brief nap and he watched TV. Later we ate wasabi potato chips together while watching Franklin Stays Up.

Soon the newly minted first grader will go to bed. I'm glad this day is almost over.